


You're Not Like Them, Are You?

by burninglikeabridge



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-18
Updated: 2014-02-18
Packaged: 2018-01-12 22:35:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1203064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burninglikeabridge/pseuds/burninglikeabridge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>High school AU Destiel-<br/>Cas isn't exactly the popular kid, and Dean isn't what he seems.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Not Like Them, Are You?

Castiel had always hated school.  
Most people would assume otherwise.   
He did the classwork, he got good grades, he read books. He wore sweaters sometimes. He had a general disinterest in the social activities of sports games and dances. It wasn't as if anyonr invited him along, anyways.   
So of course, people assumed he was deeply involved in school and also, had the stupid assumption that he enjoyed it.   
He didn't.   
School was hell for Cas, even on the days that he was left entirely alone.   
He didn't exactly have many friends.   
It was a miserable place; a brick building full of people bigger than him, people with below average intelligence and a need for violence. A need which was, unfortunely, being directed at Castiel.   
He had been walking to his math class, just after lunch, when one of them had spotted him in the hall.  
In his dirty coat and strange demeanor, Cas was a common interest to the bullies of the school.  
Those bullies were- as true to the cliche- the football playing jocks.   
Cas kept his head down in hopes of avoiding them.  
'Hey!' Cas flinched at the sound. Of course he couldn't avoid them; it was silly to think he could.  
He sighed and turned. There were three of them standing there in the hall, towering over Cas by almost a foot.   
Cas clutched his books tighter to his chest.   
'Hi.' He said stiffly, praying that a teacher would walk by and they would all scatter.  
He glanced around. It seemed that today wasn't lucky for him.   
'Look at him,' One of the boys said, grinning crookedly. Cas couldn't remember his name- Jake? James?   
Does it matter when he's about to beat your face in? Cas asked himself. Nope, doesn't matter.   
He tried to act unaffected, but when the guy- John?- took another step forward, he involuntarily stumbled back.   
'Your nasty pedo coat.' The guy spat, frowning at Cas's coat.   
Cas grabbed at it self consiously with one hand. His coat might have been dirty and worn, but he always wore it. Always had.   
He wasn't sure why, but he didn't want to stop wearing it. Especially not upon request of some fumbling idiot from the football team.   
The bully smirked and pushed Cas back.   
Cas didn't move, didn't speak.   
He convinced himself he'd get bored and leave.  
Instead, he knocked Cas's books from his arms with one sharp movement, and Cas stumbled back and nearly tripped over one of them.   
Cas opened his mouth to reply and then clamped it shut again, shaking his head to himself.   
He looked up at the boys, determined not to look afraid.  
But the sound of one of them cracking his knuckles made Cas go pale.   
'Stop.'   
The voice came from nowhere; it was deep and startling and took Cas a moment to discern where it came from.  
It came from someone at the end of the hall.  
Someone in a leather jacket, with messy hair. Someone who was all too familiar to Castiel.  
Cas had seen him around more than once; Dean Winchester.   
All the air escaped from his lungs.  
Gorgeous Dean Winchester.   
Dean walked closer, and Cas stared at his eyes.   
It was entirely involuntary; how could he not stare? Dean's eyes were shockingly green. And surprisingly... Kind? Cas wondered.   
Dean was looking at him then, not like he looked at everyone else, calmly disinterested. No, he looked very interested. Maybe Cas has imagined it, but there was a soft sort of surprise in Dean's expression, as if he himself was shocked that he found interest in Castiel at all.  
His eyes locked on Cas's, and it was as if there was an unspoken promise there: I'll help you.   
Cas's words died on his tongue, and his mind was full of green eyes, unable to form new thoughts.   
~  
Cas remembered the first time he'd ever locked eyes with Dean Winchester.  
It had been during literature; Dean was staring at the wall and Cas was-rather shamelessly- staring at Dean.   
Dean's fingers tapped on the edge of his desk and he frowned at the poster on the wall.   
Cas smiled to himself.   
And that was when Dean noticed him. He looked over for a brief second before looking away. Then he did a visible double take and looked at Cas again.   
Cas's heart beat faster in his chest and he tried to pretend he hadn't been staring.  
But when he looked back at Dean, Dean was staring back at him. A small smirk on his mouth, his green eyes boring into Castiel's. Dean's eyes were just too bright, and with the full force of their impact on Cas, he didn't know how to react.   
Cas made a small sound of surprise before hurriedly looking away. All the blood drained from his face and his skin was uncomfortably hot.   
Cas didn't look at him for the rest of class, but whenever Dean glanced over at him, Dean chuckled.   
~  
Cas was in the hall, standing next to Dean Winchester, who was defending him.  
This can't be happening, he told himself. And yet; it is.   
Dean's eyes slipped away, and the moment ended.   
'Back off, man.' Dean looked back up, at the boy in front of Cas this time.  
The guy stepped back, raising his hands in defeat.  
'What's the deal, come on? It's not like you give a shit anyways.' The guy snorted.  
Dean didn't respond for a second. Cas's heart sank, and he tried not to be disappointed. Of course Dean didn't care about him; they were strangers. Sometimes Cas stared at him in the hallway. Dean looked back at him sometimes.   
It didn't mean anything.   
Well, it might've meant a little to Cas. But, certainly, it was nothing to Dean.   
'Go home, Jack.' Dean said, his voice even.   
Cas didn't understand; Jack was a few inches taller than Dean, his shoulders wider. Maybe it was out of respect that Jack was backing off.   
He took another step closer until Jack was shaking his head and turning to leave.   
'Okay, okay. Have the fucking loser for yourself, Winchester.' Jack sneered, glancing at Cas. Cas shrunk back, and Dean's eyes were on him again. He tried not to look at Dean.   
'Let's go,' Jack called to the other two jocks still standing in the hall.  
They left.  
Dean didn't say a word, but his eyes were still locked on Cas. He stared shamelessly.   
'Um.' Was all Cas could manage. His mouth didn't seem to want to function, and his brain was too busy thinking about Dean's mouth.   
'You're not like them... Are you?' Cas said flatly. He didn't know what to expect; maybe Dean really did just want to beat him up himself.   
'Here.' Dean mumbled, and he took a step closer to Cas.   
For a terrifyingly suspenseful moment, Cas thought Dean was going to lean in. To kiss him? He didn't know; he held his breath in anticipation anyways. Dean's eyes burned bright with something Cas couldn't quite figure out. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then shut it and shook his head slightly.   
Then, he leaned down and Cas lost all ability to think for a moment.   
But instead of leaning towards Cas, Dean was now kneeling on the ground, gathering up Cas's books.   
'Oh, I-' Cas felt awkward, standing while Dean kneeled at his feet. The image of Dean down in front of him like that stirred up too many innaproppeiate images in his head.   
He leaned down next to Dean and started grabbing up his books.   
'Thank you.' Cas said awkwardly. Dean stopped picking up books for a moment to shoot Cas a grin, his eyes bright.   
'No problem.' Dean smirked, standing. Cas stood too.  
They were silent for a moment, just looking at each other. Cas took the opportunity to stare, to catalogue every detail of Dean that he could. He had his opportunity to see him close up now and- wow. Everything about Dean, from the sharp angle of his jaw to the careless smirk on his mouth; it was everything and nothing like Cas had expected all at the same time.   
Cas cleared his throat to break the silence.  
'Oh.' Dean held out the small stack of books. Cas took it, his fingertips brushing the back of Dean's hand.   
He let his touch linger just a second too long.   
He held his breath, praying that Dean would react.   
He did; he moved quickly, his fingers wrapping around Cas's wrist.   
His grip was firm and warm and Cas breathed in sharply in surprise.   
Cas, startled, dropped the books in between them. The sound of them clattering to the floor made them both jump.   
Dean instantly released his grip on Cas's arm.   
Cas looked up at him, and Dean had the same strange look on his face as he did before, the desperation.   
Cas broke eye contact and leaned down to reach for the books again.  
Dean moved too. He grabbed Cas's hand in one fumbling movement, holding onto his fingers.  
He looked at Cas as if he was as surprised by his own actions as Cas was.   
His hand was warm and softer than Cas would've thought.  
Cas's mind went blank.   
He dropped the other notebook, his knees nearly buckling. The notebook made a loud sound against the tile, but neither of them really noticed.   
'Dean-' Cas looked up at him, suddenly terrified. What if it was a joke? What if-   
'Cas, listen.' Dean's voice was softer than it had been before, and he slid his fingers into Cas's, and then he was actually holding his hand.   
Dean Winchester is holding my hand, was all Cas could think. His mind was still reeling, and he couldn't move to grip Dean's hand, or to do anything at all.   
He held his breath in anticipation.   
'I've only talked to you a few times. I'm sorry I never... it's just that I didn't know what to say and I wasn't sure if you'd even want to talk to me. I just.. I don't know if you...' Dean looked away, and Cas felt the weight of his gaze lifted. He missed it- he wasn't sure why it even mattered, but he missed Dean's eyes already.   
'Dean?' Dean looked up, and Cas leaned forward the slightest bit. He held his breath, trying not to be afraid, but with Dean's bright eyes on his, it was hard.   
He wasn't even sure why he was leaning in, it just felt like the right thing to do.   
'I stare at you.' Dean said softly, so quiet he could've been speaking to himself. 'Do you notice? I do it a lot.' Dean glanced down. 'A lot.' He looked back up at Cas, his eyes hungry.   
It was Dean who closed the final distance, and their mouths bumped against each other. It was almost accidental, and they were both too afraid to really kiss the other at first.   
Then Cas moved forward, cupping Dean's jaw in his hand and their lips shifted together. Dean kissed back instantly, crushing Cas's mouth against his own hard enough that Cas stumbled back.   
He twisted his fingers in Dean's hair to hold contact, and Dean took two steps backed him into the lockers behind them, his hands on the wall on either side of Cas.   
Dean pressed closer, sliding a hand to Cas's hair. Cas pulled back.   
Dean's eyes were bright with that desperation again.   
'Dean, are you sure you-'   
'Shut up, Cas.' Dean kissed him again, but Cas placed his palm against Dean's chest.   
'I need to... I need to know that you mean it.' Cas said awkwardly. Which was silly, he thought, that he could makeout with Dean up against a locker but not even ask a simple question of 'do you really like me?'   
Dean didn't reply; he pressed his lips to Cas's softly instead. His hand found Cas's again, their fingers slipping together more easily this time.  
'Is that enough of an answer for you?' Dean asked softly.  
Cas couldn't find the words to speak, not like this, not with his back to the wall and Dean's hand in his, Dean's mouth so close to his.   
He just nodded instead, leaning up to kiss Dean again.


End file.
